


imperfect as flesh to kiss

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Smut, poetic PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:13:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29839281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: a god and his mortal in a field of dandelions
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), DreamXD/GeorgeNotFound
Comments: 1
Kudos: 108
Collections: Anonymous





	imperfect as flesh to kiss

**Author's Note:**

> i cannot bring myself to genuinely write an unironic fic using the name DreamXD

It’s not fear. George knows what makes his heart beat faster around him, around this god of his former friend-partner-lover.

The god is light and breath and four dimensions, dizzying and electrifying. George knows he only has to ask; if that. The whisper of a want, the barest hint of something George hardly needs, and it’s his. _I am here, George. I am here._

George knows what he wants. The god is formless, so bright and inky black he is void, and yet George feels his breath keening towards him, as if it might lead him by gravity to lips, to skin, to something as imperfect as flesh to kiss.

The heat begins from nothing, in his knees. A shiver in the balls of his feet, where he might stand on his tip-toes. The grass under him blooms green and he is lifeful, singing, zinging electric bones and blood.

The god moves close and George is not standing. He does not remember sitting, but he is laid back on his elbows, and the many eyes above him blink soft and sweet at him. _Do not be afraid,_ George thinks; but this is not the angel of the Lord. A different god, a human god, a god with warmth that lays its palms flat to George’s face and kisses him with airless lips. He presses into the grass, the soft of dandelions, and the god is around him.

The heat spreads like a wildfire and the dance is between them and their intertwining bodies. George does not have anything to hold so the grass rips up between his fingers and he, breathless, gasps. The god is pressed to him, engulfs him, an overlarge feeling in his throat as he writhes in ecstasy. And the presence, the quiet words left unspoken, overlapping through him: _I am with you. I am with you._

The god presses in on his mind. Whirlwind of power, the years long past, and an overwhelming cascade of intensity overcoming George and consuming him; he is lost; he is stranded with nothing but his own bliss and rapture as he speaks and says nothing and the god is brighter than sunlight. He is seen, and he is known, and he comes, and comes, and his eyes are wide open and he is blinded.

The god is a whisper against the flowers. The warmth in George’s throat lingers. _I am here,_ the god says, and there is a smile, and a kiss, and George tilts himself upwards to catch it. _I am here._

**Author's Note:**

> pogchampion, i hope


End file.
